


Lives on his back

by millygal



Series: Prank Wars [3]
Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Crack, M/M, Prank Wars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 14:31:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10641816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal
Summary: The pair of them have the collective mental age of a five year old.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Continuation of the crack. These are getting so stupid, I love it XD.

This definitely wasn't good. _Bugger! How **do** you radio for backup when your 'ands are tied to a steerin' wheel?_

Contortionists across the globe would've been dancing on the spot if they could see him now. Gene Hunt wasn't thought of as a particularly bendy individual. Nor was he practiced in the arts of the Karma Sutra, whatever he might like to tell his female staff and suspects. 

So the fact he had the Cortina's radio handset hooked round his left ankle, his big toe depressing the signal button, was probably cause for applause.

How do you end up tethered to your own car, with your own tie, in nothin' but your birthday suit? Oh yes, that's right. Piss off a member of the local Mafia. That'd just about do it.

"6842 to 6843. Tyler, Tyler? Sam, come in Sam" Where the bloody hell was that dopey bastard anyway? By rights, it should have been him with his impressive man boobs on show, for all of Chorlton to see.

Thankfully the workmen had knocked off for the day, otherwise Gene would have been chewing on his own wrists to free himself. _Shitshitshitshit, cramp._ Where was that fairy arsed shit head Tyler, when he needed him? Probably off poncing around with his paperwork as usual.

"6843 respond. I'm warnin' you, respond or it'll be your arse" The radio crackled and fizzed then the welcome, dulcet tones of his DI filled his ears.

"6842? Guv? I'm here, what's up?"

"At last. Where the fuck 'ave you been?"

"Following up that number plate lead"

"Well get your arse over to Chorlton-on-Medlock would ya"

"Why?"

"Don't ask questions, just run you're pansy arse over here. Now"

"All right, all right, keep your panties on. I'm on my way"

"Oh, Tyler?"

"Yea?"

"Just you, 'kay? Don't go bringin' plod or nothin'"

***********

What'd gotten the Guv's back up this time? Could that man never be polite! Steering the unmarked into the nearest parking space, Sam contemplated the niceties of a 70's Neanderthal as he got out and locked the door. You couldn't call Gene nice, that was for sure. He left the top off the toothpaste, never chucked the rubber wrappers in the bin after they'd finished and didn't understand the concept of small talk or fourplay. Even so, damn, he was the best shag Sam had, had in a long time. which was why he tended to let these things slide. 

Turning a corner, the back of the Guv's bronze Cortina came into view. Why was he just sat in the drivers seat? Usually by now he'd have been out and shouting about whatever had pissed him off.

Wait, was he..he was. He was naked. Naked and tied to the steering wheel. Priceless.

Careful not to let the Guv see him in the mirrors, Sam backed away. Fumbling for his radio, he couldn't repress the smile of utter glee. This was far too good an opportunity to pass up.

"Alpha one, come in Alpha one."

"This is Alpha one, 6843. What is it lad?"

"The Guv's just radioed me, he's in some sort of trouble. Get a couple of cars out to Chorlton-on-Medlock, pronto"

"Roger that"

"All units, get over to Chorlton-on-Medlock. DCI Hunt in need of urgent assistance"

Sam was definitely, **amused.** ***********

Gene was freezin' his bollocks off. How long did it take for cryin' out loud? 

The sound of car tires squealing across gravel made his heart leap, until they came round the corner. Six unmarked cop cars and 4 plod mobiles came tearing round the corner, skidding to a stop inches from his car.

He barely had time to try and cover his modesty, before twenty armed bastards were completely surrounding him, in all his glory. Chris and Ray barged their way through the dumb struck crowd. Not bothering to ask, just running up to the driver's side door. 

Ray best not have dented his precious car with that thick skull of his. He was definitely gonna have a headache when he came too. "SAM, YOU **BASTARD** "


End file.
